27. Todd
TODD
Someone was trying to break down my front door.
That was my first thought when the pounding dragged me out of a sleep so deep it felt more like unconsciousness. I opened one eye, then immediately regretted it when sunlight stabbed straight through my skull.
My head throbbed.
My mouth tasted like bourbon and regret.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling for several seconds, trying to remember where I was, what day it was, and why the hell my entire body felt like it had gone three rounds with a freight train.
Then it all came back.
Cici’s porch.
Her closed door.
The words I had said.
The words I had not said when they mattered.
I dragged a hand down my face and groaned.
The pounding came again. Along with a muffled voice.
“Todd,” Bunny yelled from the other side of the door. “I know you’re in there.”
I reached blindly for my phone on the nightstand and squinted at the screen.
8:30.
Seven missed calls from Bunny.
I got home at 4:30 last night. I didn't crawl into bed until five-thirty. Or maybe it was 6:00. I don't know, things were a little blurry.
That meant I'd gotten roughly two-and-a-half hours of sleep, which explained why my brain felt like wet cement and my body felt like it had been left in a ditch. I pushed myself upright, sat on the edge of the bed, and gave the room a second to stop tilting.
It did not cooperate.
“Todd,” Bunny called again. “Open the door before I call building security and tell them I’m concerned you’re dead.”
I muttered something that would have made my mother disappointed in me and stood. I was wearing gray sweatpants and nothing else.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Holy shit.
My hair was sticking up in several directions, my eyes were bloodshot, and my face looked like I hadn’t slept in days. I looked exactly like a man who had made every wrong decision available to him.
I staggered through the living room and opened the door.
Bunny stood in the hallway with a white pastry box tucked against her hip. Justin stood beside her, freshly showered, fully dressed, and looking annoyingly awake. He was holding a to-go tray of coffees.
Bunny took one look at me.
Her eyebrows rose.
“Rough night?”
I leaned one shoulder against the doorframe.
“You’ve been calling me since seven.”
“Yes,” she said. “Because you went to Cici’s last night and then vanished. That is not how family updates work.”
Justin lifted the coffees.
“We brought caffeine.”
“And carbs,” Bunny added, holding up the pastry box. “Because based on your current appearance, you need both.”
“I’m fine.”
Bunny looked me up and down.
“You look like a man who lost a fight with a whiskey barrel.”
Justin pressed his lips together like he was trying not to laugh.
I stepped back and let them in. “Come in before my neighbors hear you insulting me.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure they heard the part where I threatened to tell security you were dead.”
She walked past me into the living room like she owned the place. Justin followed her in and set the coffees on the kitchen island. I closed the door and turned around just as the guest bedroom door opened.
Frank walked out.
He was wearing the same uniform pants he had worn the night before, but his work shirt was off and slung across his shoulder. In its place was a plain white T-shirt with a bourbon stain across the front. His hair was flattened on one side. He looked about as rough as I felt.
Bunny froze.
Justin’s gaze slid from Frank to me.
Frank gave them both a nod like it was perfectly normal for the night maintenance man from my office building to stroll out of my spare bedroom at eight-thirty in the morning.
“Morning,” Frank said.
Bunny blinked. “Morning.”
Frank walked over to me and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“You’re a good man, Todd,” he said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “I have a feeling she’ll come around.”
The words hit. I swallowed once and nodded. “Thanks, Frank.”
He gave my shoulder a squeeze.
“And don’t worry about the truck. Thing’s survived worse than you.”
“That is not comforting.”
He grinned. “Wasn’t meant to be.”
I managed something close to a smile. “Thanks for the ride home.”
“Anytime.” He looked toward Bunny and Justin. “Nice to see you.”
Bunny still looked like she had walked into the wrong movie. “You too. Ah… pastry for the ride?”
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”
Frank headed for the door, then paused with his hand on the knob.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, looking back at me, “sometimes the best thing a man can do after he screws up is keep showing up.”
Then he opened the door and left.
Silence settled behind him.
Bunny stared at me.
Justin stared at me.
I walked to the island, picked up one of the coffees, and took a long drink.
Bunny set the pastry box down very slowly.
“I have several questions.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“I was unaware you and Frank were buddies. He comes here often?”
Justin coughed into his fist.
I leaned against the island and rubbed the heel of my hand against one eye.
“I borrowed his truck last night, remember?”
Bunny’s mouth fell open a little. “I know, but that doesn't explain why he spent the night.”
I reached for a coffee.
“I brought the truck back to Frank afterward. Minus the rear bumper. I think I lost when I hit that pothole. Anyway, I realized I still didn’t have a ride home. He offered to drive me. We got to talking on the way here. He was in the service. We had that in common.”
Bunny’s voice was gentle. “I see.”
“He’s having woman problems. I’m having woman problems. I invited him up for a drink.”
“One drink?” Justin asked.
I gave him a look.
He nodded again. “Right. Not one drink.”
“One became three. Maybe four. At some point, it became clear neither one of us should be making decisions involving elevators or engines, so I told him to crash in the spare room.”
Bunny stared at me for another second, then shook her head.
“I don’t even know what to do with that.”
“Nothing,” I said. “There’s nothing to do with it.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I wasn’t going to let the guy drive home drunk.”
She studied my face, and whatever joke she had been about to make faded before she said it.
“You did the right thing. How did it go with Cici?”
The question sat there between us.
I looked away first.
Justin pulled out a stool and sat. Bunny did the same, but neither of them pushed. They just waited.
That made it worse.
I set the coffee down and braced both hands on the counter. For a long moment, I watched the dark liquid ripple inside the cup.
“She didn’t let me in.”
Bunny’s face changed.
“What do you mean?” she asked quietly.
“After I pulled into her driveway, the truck backfired again. The engine sputtered a bit after I turned the engine off. And when I opened the truck door... let's just say the noise it made could've awakened the entire street."
I rubbed my hands down my face.
"She was standing in the doorway. I didn't even have to knock, the truck announced my arrival. I walked up to the door expecting her to step aside so I could go in. She never did.”
“Oh, Todd.”
I let out a humorless breath.
“I stood on her porch and talked with her, blocking me from entering her home."
Neither of them said anything.
“I told her I knew she was innocent. I told her I should have trusted her. I told her I was sorry.” My throat tightened. “She listened. At least, I think she did. Her expression gave nothing away.”
Bunny’s eyes shone.
I looked past her toward the windows because looking at her face was too much.
“At first, I kept thinking she would move aside. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen.” My voice dropped. “With every minute I stood on her porch, I could feel my chances of getting her back slipping further away. By the time I walked back to Frank’s truck, I knew she had made her decision.”
“No,” Bunny said.
I looked at her.
She shook her head harder. “No. That's not what that means.”
“It felt pretty clear from where I was standing.”
“She is hurt,” Bunny said. “She is pregnant, heartbroken, scared, and probably furious. That does not mean she stopped loving you.”
“She has every reason to.”
“Maybe.” Bunny leaned forward. “But love doesn’t turn off because someone screws up. If it did, Justin would have left me when I tried to reorganize his entire life while he was in rehab.”
Justin’s brows lifted. “Tried?”
She waved a hand. “This is not about me.”
“It sounded briefly like it was.”
She ignored him and pointed at me.
“What are you going to do now?”
I looked down at the counter.
“I don’t know.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
“No,” she snapped. “It’s the only one you’re hiding behind.”
I lifted my gaze.
Her face had gone fierce in a way that made her look painfully like Emma for half a second.
“What?” she asked. “That’s it? You’re just giving up?”
“I’m not giving up.”
“That is exactly what you’re doing.”
“She told me what she needed to tell me.”
“She told you she was hurt.”
“She told me she wasn’t sure she could get past it.”
“Then you give her a reason to try.” Bunny stood, too restless to sit still. “You do not get to break her heart and then decide she’s better off without you because that makes you feel noble. That is not noble. That’s cowardly.”
Justin looked at her. “Bunny.”
“No, he needs to hear this.” She turned back to me. “You are going to fight like hell to get her back. You belong with her, Todd. And she’s carrying your child for Pete’s sake.”
The word child hit the center of my chest.
I closed my eyes for a second.
“I know.”
“Do you?” she asked, softer now. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re acting like you already lost both of them.”
I opened my eyes.
Bunny’s mouth trembled, but her voice stayed steady.
“You made a horrible mistake. I am not going to pretend you didn’t. You didn’t trust her when she needed you to. That is on you. But you do not fix that by disappearing. You fix that by becoming the man she can trust again.”
Justin nodded.